Chapter 12: Stirring Her Rebellious Spirit

In the end, Li Sheng reluctantly agreed to cook for Tang Xin, unable to resist her repeated insistence that she would starve to death with no one else at the educated youth center. Li Sheng, resigned, tried to intimidate her, “Fine, but after you finish eating, I’ll take you to cut wheat and see just how capable you really are.” To match his imposing air, Tang Xin clenched her fist and declared loudly, “Of course I am!”

And so, Li Sheng, who had just returned from his errands, didn’t make it home as planned, but instead followed Tang Xin to the educated youth center. Even though most people were at home resting or eating at this hour, they still ran into a few people along the way. Regardless of whether she really knew them, Tang Xin greeted everyone she recognized with a warm smile, letting it be known that she and Li Sheng truly had a connection.

Upon reaching the youth center, Tang Xin opened the door and found a large bowl on the table, covered with a lid—presumably left for her. Inside were two hard, dark, coarse-grain steamed buns, alongside a bowl of watery rice soup so thin you could see your reflection.

Li Sheng immediately understood why this pampered young lady couldn’t eat it; it was no secret that Tang Xin had lived a privileged life in the city. All the more reason, he thought, that he absolutely could not marry her. His family was so poor that sometimes they couldn’t even afford food like this.

“What do you want to eat?” Li Sheng’s tone was gruff and unwelcoming. He treated this task as a duty, something to be done and forgotten, with no desire for further contact with this delicate city girl. He owed her, after all. The last incident, though he hadn’t investigated, he knew someone had set a trap. Regardless of who it was meant for, as a man, he had to take responsibility.

Tang Xin, eager, hurried into her room and returned with two pounds of white flour and four eggs—the extent of her current reserves, exchanged from her space farm. Unlike the old games she used to play, where crops were traded for coins to level up, here she could exchange harvests for real goods from her warehouse. Her energy was limited, and those two items had only been redeemed the night before.

Tang Xin had secretly taken them out of the space and locked them in her cabinet. She was growing more crops than before and wondered what new delicacies she might be able to exchange for that night. What she really craved was a chive and egg pancake—her future mother-in-law had made it for her just the first night; since then, it had only been plain pancakes. She never complained, knowing how hard things were for the Tang family. The fact that Tang’s mother could spare anything for her was already a rare kindness. But she hadn’t grown chives yet, and there were none at the center, so she’d have to settle for plain egg pancakes.

Li Sheng, surprisingly, made fragrant, delicious egg pancakes for her, teaching her the process step by step. To her astonishment, this man’s cooking was nearly as good as his mother’s, despite rural customs where men rarely entered the kitchen. He was obviously the sort who, though cold on the surface, would be steadfastly devoted to anyone he chose. Tang Xin felt even more certain she’d chosen well.

With a mischievous grin, she teased him, “Don’t worry, once I learn, I’ll make these for you when I’m your wife.” The simple remark turned the tips of Li Sheng’s ears scarlet. Known outside for his ruthless reputation, feared by all in the village, this tough man actually took a step back as if to escape.

Once all the pancakes were done, Tang Xin urged him, “Eat while it’s hot, it won’t taste as good once it’s cold.” Li Sheng shook his head, “I’ll eat at home.”

Instead, Tang Xin packed two cut pieces of egg pancake into a bowl, pointing at the rest, “Have some now, and take the rest home for our mother and your younger siblings.” Why else would she have him use up all the flour and eggs at once? With the space farm, she no longer worried about hunger in this parallel world.

Li Sheng looked deeply at Tang Xin, realizing now why she had insisted on making all the pancakes at once. He’d meant to tell her to save some for later, but she cut him off.

“It’s hot, it won’t keep, and besides, it’s not convenient for me to eat alone at the center. But I don’t want to let certain ingrates benefit, either. As the eldest sister-in-law, it’s my duty to look after the younger ones,” Tang Xin said with a bright smile, echoing his own words back at him. Li Sheng was about to rebut, but a shriek came from outside, “Ah! What are you two doing?”

Meng Jia’s voice was loud, but for some reason, it drew no other onlookers.

Tang Xin ignored her and swiftly wrapped the remaining pancakes in a handkerchief, stuffing them into Li Sheng’s satchel. “Go home and eat.”

There were no takeout containers or plastic bags in those days; the clean plastic bag in her pocket was the best she could manage. Of course, she knew exactly what Meng Jia was after, but had no intention of explaining—if anything, she wanted to fulfill the heroine’s wish.

What Tang Xin was most curious about was this: she was no longer the reckless, impulsive girl she’d once been. If, in this life, Meng Jia still married Lu Liqin, would she still have the happiness described in the book? The cannon-fodder supporting character died so miserably, but in Meng Jia’s first life, Tang Xin had been Lu Liqin’s true love. Yet in the second, he’d quickly ended up with the heroine—was he really nothing more than a tool for the plot?

Li Sheng watched all of this unfold, feeling as if the handkerchief-wrapped pancakes weighed a thousand pounds in his satchel, impossible to refuse. In the end, he simply took the tin of biscuits from his bag, left them on the table, and strode away without a word.

He hadn’t gone far when a cheerful female voice called after him, “Wait, which field will you be cutting wheat in? I’ll come find you!” Li Sheng stumbled and quickened his pace, but could still hear the silvery sound of her laughter trailing behind him.

Meng Jia, clutching her mouth in shock, stared wide-eyed. “You, you—”

Tang Xin shot her a sidelong glance and said coldly, “Look at yourself. How rude.” Her father used to say the same, admonishing her for lacking manners and suggesting she learn from Meng Jia.

Meng Jia, nearly choking on her own saliva, pointed at her in alarm. “Tang Xin, are you really planning to marry that country bumpkin?” She knew that provoking Tang Xin would only trigger her rebellious streak—a belated adolescent mindset.

Tang Xin replied matter-of-factly, “Isn’t this what you wanted? You always advised me that if I married Li Sheng, I wouldn’t have to toil in the fields.”

“But—but shirking labor like this is wrong,” Meng Jia protested anxiously.

Tang Xin, watching her, almost felt anxious on her behalf. “So do you want me to marry Li Sheng, or not?”